Книга - The Husband Hunt

The Husband Hunt
Karen Kirst


WANTED: A HUSBAND. Sophie Tanner gave up hoping for Nathan O’Malley’s approval—and love—long ago. Getting married is the only way to protect her younger brother and keep her family’s Smoky Mountain farm. As much as she’d like Nathan to be the groom, he can't seem to get past their friendship…or their differences. Since they were children, Nathan has known Sophie was too impulsive, too headstrong. She’s forever rushing into situations without thinking them through, like this scheme to snare a husband in under a month. Nathan always thought he’d fall in love with someone like himself–sensible, cautious, levelheaded. Sophie is his polar opposite. So why can’t he picture anyone else at his side?







Wanted: A Husband

Sophie Tanner gave up hoping for Nathan O’Malley’s approval—and love—long ago. Getting married is the only way to protect her younger brother and keep her family’s Smoky Mountain farm. As much as she’d like Nathan to be the groom, he can’t seem to get past their friendship…or their differences.

Since they were children, Nathan has known Sophie was too impulsive, too headstrong. She’s forever rushing into situations without thinking them through, like this scheme to snare a husband in under a month. Nathan always thought he’d fall in love with someone like himself—sensible, cautious, levelheaded. Sophie is his polar opposite. So why can’t he picture anyone else at his side?

Smoky Mountain Matches: Dreams of home and family come true in the Smoky Mountains


“What do you think of Sophie’s new look, Nathan?”

Cheeks burning, Sophie couldn’t bring herself to look at him, watching instead his large hands near the chessboard, how they clenched and the knuckles went white.

“I would say she hasn’t changed all that much.”

“How can you say that?” said Nathan’s mother, who’d just entered the room and was setting a plate of cookies on the coffee table.

Sophie inwardly cringed. Of course. She’d known, hadn’t she, that a new dress wouldn’t alter the way Nathan viewed her.

“She hasn’t changed,” Nathan drawled softly in the gathering silence, “because she’s always been beautiful, inside and out.”

Startled, Sophie’s gaze shot to his face. Surely she hadn’t heard right? And yet there, in the softening of his mouth, the flicker of a smile, she witnessed appreciation and approval. A giddy sort of joy infused her insides, warming her from the inside out.

Indicating the board, where he had no legal moves left, he said, “Stalemate.”

She stared. Very rarely did they call a draw. The game’s outcome was clear, however. Neither one of them was a winner.


KAREN KIRST

was born and raised in East Tennessee near the Great Smoky Mountains. A lifelong lover of books, it wasn’t until after college that she had the grand idea to write one herself. Now she divides her time between being a wife, homeschooling mom and romance writer. Her favorite pastimes are reading, visiting tearooms and watching romantic comedies.


The Husband Hunt

Karen Kirst






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”

—Isaiah 55:8–9


For a beloved aunt, Linda McLemore, whose support and encouragement mean the world to me. Thanks for all the laughs and the prayers. I love you.


This dream would not be possible without my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.

John 15:5: I am the vine, you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.


Contents

Chapter One (#u7cca7abe-33a3-550e-9e92-1d538af999e5)

Chapter Two (#ucf3912a8-6927-5728-9ec9-2b9d5315f125)

Chapter Three (#ud75e7868-ab7e-54da-8c7d-df0dbe96d451)

Chapter Four (#udb251e6c-f45f-5a57-b00e-9e471f643fd3)

Chapter Five (#uae6c74a1-8b04-5e3b-94e2-4aefb8556b20)

Chapter Six (#ub7678ab8-7eb0-5077-bdac-fb547854fda4)

Chapter Seven (#uf178ddbe-6aaf-5fc3-9932-ed168c2b6e11)

Chapter Eight (#uec3c503b-36c2-5a98-98d8-b2502dfe2921)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twenty-Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Discussion Questions (#litres_trial_promo)

Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One

Gatlinburg, Tennessee

August 1881

She was trapped. Stuck high above the ground in her place of refuge—a sugar maple with a trunk too wide to get her arms around and century-deep roots—cornered by a skunk, of all things. The varmint had sauntered up and planted itself at the tree’s base and showed no intentions of leaving.

Gripping the branch above her head, Sophie leaned forward and commenced trying to reason with him. “Yoo-hoo! How about you move along? I’m sure there are tastier earthworms along the stream bank. You might even catch yourself a frog.”

His frantic digging continued. How long was she going to have to wait?

“You’re keeping me from my chores, you know.” She blew a stray hair out of her eyes. “Will and Granddad will be wanting their supper soon.” Beans, fried potatoes and corn bread again. Her specialty.

The snap of a twig brought her and the skunk’s head up simultaneously.

Her gaze landed on a face as familiar to her as her own, clashing with silver eyes that seemed to perpetually taunt or condemn her. She swallowed a sigh. She’d long ago given up hoping for approval from Nathan O’Malley.

“Hello, Nathan.”

One dusky eyebrow quirked. “I see you’ve made a new friend.”

She peered down. The animal’s focus had shifted to Nathan, and it was now stamping the ground in warning. “Yeah, well, my friend doesn’t seem to like you very much.”

He eyed the skunk with caution. Sunlight shifting through the trees glinted in his light brown hair, cut short so he wouldn’t have to fool with it, and bathed his classic features in golden light. Features that were branded into her brain. A straight, proud nose flanked by prominent cheekbones. Square jaw. The crease beside his full lips that flashed every time he smiled.

And who could forget those quicksilver eyes? They dominated her daydreams, hovered at the edge of her consciousness as she drifted off to sleep at night. It was downright irritating.

“I really need to get down,” she informed him, scooting closer to the trunk. That jittery feeling was back. If she didn’t eat soon, she chanced tumbling out of this tree in a dead faint. Wouldn’t that impress him.

“Could you try to lure him away?”

He tore his gaze from the irate skunk to stare up at her. “And how do you propose I do that?”

“I don’t know.” She cast around the forest floor for inspiration. When none came, she suggested, “If you move away, maybe he’ll follow. Toss a stick in the direction of the stream. Maybe he’ll get distracted and realize there’s more to eat there.”

“He’s not a dog.”

Frowning, he edged sideways. The skunk hissed. Followed.

“It’s working!” Sophie swung her body around and stretched her foot down to the knotted branch below.

“Sophie, stop,” Nathan ordered. “Wait until he’s gone.”

She chose to ignore his warning. Unfortunately, her boot slipped. Her grip on the trunk slackened. Scrambling for purchase, she whipped her head around in time to see Nathan surge forward as if to catch her.

The skunk reacted as expected. Tail aloft, he sprayed.

Sophie gasped. Nathan attempted to shield his face with his arms, to sidestep, but he was too slow. Because his focus was on rescuing her. Groaning, she shimmied down the trunk and hopped to the ground as the offended animal scampered in the opposite direction.

“Oh, Nathan, I’m so sorry!” She advanced toward him, only to halt in her tracks as noxious fumes assaulted her nose. He smelled like rotten eggs and garlic. Ugh. Wrinkling her nose, she covered the bottom half of her face with one hand. “Did it get in your eyes?”

His lids blinked open, revealing twin chips of forged steel. Uh-oh.

“No.”

Wearing a disgusted expression, he carefully wiped the moisture from his face with his shirtsleeves. He looked down and grimaced. “These were my most comfortable trousers.”

He didn’t have to say it. Those trousers were headed for the burn pile.

Pivoting on his heel, his long strides quickly ate up the distance to the stream. Sophie followed at a reasonable distance, making a point to breathe through her mouth. Oh, this was terrible. Worse than terrible. He would never forgive her.

On the bank, he tugged off his brown leather work boots, tossed them onto the grass and waded into the sluggish water. While the crystal-clear Smoky Mountain stream dissecting her property wasn’t deep enough for diving, it was deep enough to submerge oneself in, and that’s what he did. When he came up for air, he threaded his fingers through his hair to dislodge the moisture. His white shirt molded to thick, ropy shoulders, chiseled chest and flat stomach carved from countless hours milking cows, mucking out stalls and working the fields. A farmer’s physique.

She forced her too-interested gaze elsewhere, forced herself to remember. Nathan is my neighbor. My childhood friend. He probably doesn’t even think of me as a girl.

And why would he when she didn’t have a clue how to act or dress like one?

Brushing bits of dirt from her earth-hued pants, she fiddled with her rolled-up sleeves and mentally shrugged. She may not dress all fancy like other girls her age, but at least her clothes were clean and pressed and, most importantly, comfortable. Farming was backbreaking, sweaty work. It didn’t make sense to wear frilly skirts and fine silk blouses that would only get ruined.

Still...she couldn’t help but wonder sometimes what it might be like to wear a dress, to have her hair done up in a sophisticated style. Would Nathan think her beautiful then?

Get your head out of the clouds, Soph.

“We’ve got canned tomatoes in the springhouse—” she pointed downstream “—I’ll go and get them. Surely that will get the smell out.”

“Forget it.” Not sparing a glance her direction, he sloshed up and onto the bank. “I’ll take a vinegar bath at home.”

Twisting her hands together, she took halting steps forward. She wanted to go closer, but she was standing downwind and the odor was overpowering. “How long are you going to be mad at me?”

Pausing in tugging his boots on, he shot her a hard glance and retorted, “For as long as it takes the smell to wear off.”

“But—”

“No.” He cut her off with a jerk of his hand. “Honestly, Sophie, when are you going to learn to curb your impulses? Think before you act? One of these days you’re going to land yourself in a real heap of trouble and I may not be around to help. Quite frankly, I’m getting kind of tired playing rescuer.”

* * *

Nathan reached his parents’ cabin and was climbing the back porch steps just as Caleb emerged. One whiff had his younger brother backing up and raising his arm to cover his nose.

“What happened to you?”

“Sophie Tanner happened, that’s what,” he muttered, still aggravated with the headstrong tomboy. If she’d only listened to him and stayed put a few more minutes, he wouldn’t smell like a rotten bucket of pig scraps. He unbuttoned his shirt. “Do me a favor. Grab the vinegar from the cabinet. And ask Pa if he’ll help you milk the cows. I doubt they’ll let me near them reeking of polecat.”

“What has Sophie done now?”

Explaining what happened as he undressed, he chucked his shirt, pants and socks into a heap to be burned later. Caleb’s resulting laughter didn’t bother Nathan. His brother laughed so rarely these days that he relished the sound of it, no matter that it was at his expense.

Clad in nothing but his knee-length cotton drawers, he prompted, “The sooner I get that vinegar, the better. Hurry up.”

“I wish I could’ve seen your expression when that ole polecat doused you. And Sophie...I imagine she was fit to be tied.” Brown eyes full of mirth, he was still chuckling and shaking his head as he disappeared inside.

Half sitting on the porch rail, Nathan recalled Sophie’s last expression all too clearly. Her eyes wide and beseeching, her face pale, even distraught, as he stomped off.

He pinched the bridge of his nose to dispel the blossoming ache behind his forehead.

You didn’t handle that very well, did you, O’Malley?

Caleb reappeared, a black handkerchief concealing the lower half of his face. The wicked scar near his eye lent him a sinister air.

“You look like a bank robber.”

“I won’t say what you look like.” Caleb held out the vinegar bottle. “Why the hangdog expression? Oh, wait. Let me guess. You gave Sophie a piece of your mind, and now you’re feeling guilty.”

Grabbing the bottle, Nathan pushed upright and descended the steps. The grass pricked the sensitive soles of his feet. “She’s too impulsive.”

Following a couple of paces behind, Caleb remarked, “She’s been that way since we were kids. Remember that time she took a flying leap off Flinthead Falls and nearly drowned?”

“Don’t remind me.” His stomach hardened into a tight knot just thinking about it. She’d been fourteen to his nineteen, a beautiful wild thing oblivious to danger, bursting with life and optimism that infused the air around her with sparkling energy. He’d rescued her as he’d done many times before. Lectured her, too. Now eighteen, she’d settled down since then, but he knew that untamable streak yet lingered, poised to make an appearance at any moment.

Caleb waited outside while Nathan retrieved the copper tub from the toolshed.

“And remember that time you and Danny Mabry were entrenched in a tug-of-war and Sophie distracted you? Hollered your name?” He chuckled. “You fell flat on your face in the mud.”

Nathan pursed his lips. Talk about being embarrassed. A girl he’d fancied had been watching that tug-of-war and his goal had been to impress her with his strength and skill. She’d taken one look at his mud-caked face and shared a hearty laugh with her friends. That was before he’d decided females were too much trouble to fool with.

Lifting the other end of the tub, Caleb helped him carry it to the porch.

“Oh, and do you remember—”

“I have the same memories as you, Caleb.” He cut him off, uninterested in rehashing all the scrapes and fixes Sophie Tanner had gotten herself—and him—into. “I just want to get this smell off.”

“Fine.” He helped maneuver the tub and straightened, yanking the handkerchief down around his neck, his uncharacteristic good humor gone. “Tell Pa I’m going to get a head start on the milking.”

Watching him stalk across the yard, Nathan regretted his abrupt words. The accident that had scarred Caleb and nearly killed his best friend almost two years ago had transformed the lighthearted prankster into a surly loner. He hardly recognized his own brother and it had nothing to do with his altered face.

Please, God, heal his hidden hurts. Help us to love him unconditionally and to be patient. He missed the old Caleb. He wondered if he’d ever glimpse that man again.

* * *

Three days and several vinegar baths later, his family no longer cringed when he entered a room. Poor Kate hadn’t come around since that first day. His brother Josh’s wife was expecting their first child, and her delicate condition magnified her sense of smell, which meant simply breathing the air around him had made her nauseous.

They were seated around the table Thursday night enjoying Ma’s pecan pie when a soft knock sounded on the kitchen door. Pa went to answer it. When Nathan heard Sophie’s quiet voice, he gulped the remainder of his coffee and, excusing himself, went to greet her.

Hearing his approach, Pa bid her goodbye and returned to the table.

Sophie’s gaze collided with his, remorse churning in the blue depths. The final pieces of irritation dissolved and he wished he had gone to see her before this.

“Hey, Soph.” He gripped the smooth wooden door and rested his weight against it. “Ma made pecan pie for dessert. Care to join us?”

Not much of a cook herself, she usually took him up on such offers.

She hesitated, fingers toying with the end of her neatly woven braid, honey-blond hair gleaming like spun gold in the sunlight. Spun gold? Where had that fanciful thought come from? He was not a fanciful man. He was a sensible man. A practical man who dealt with day-to-day reality. He wasn’t a reader like Josh or his cousins, so his mind wasn’t filled with poetry and romance. Must be the effects of the skunk stench.

“No, thanks. Do you have a minute?”

“Sure.” Joining her on the porch, he pulled the door closed behind him and went to lean against the railing, arms folded over his chest.

Sophie faced him squarely, hands tucked in her pants’ pockets and shoulders back in a familiar stance that said she had something to prove. “I came to apologize for the other day.”

The apology didn’t come as a surprise. One thing about his neighbor—she was quick to own up to mistakes. “Forget about it.”

“I hope the smell didn’t disrupt things too much.”

Disrupt? As in having to steer clear of the barn while his brother and father assumed his share of the chores? As in having to take his meals on the front porch so as not to make everyone gag at the supper table?

“Nah, not really.” He smiled to erase her lingering regret.

Bending at the waist, she sniffed the air around him. Shot him a hopeful smile. “You smell fine to me. Does this mean we can be friends again?”

He gave her braid a playful tug. “We’ll always be friends. You know that.”

But his words didn’t have the desired effect. Her smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared, long lashes sweeping down. “I don’t expect you to rescue me, you know.”

Straightening, Nathan settled his hands on her shoulders. “Sophie, look at me.” When she lifted her face to his, he said, “I shouldn’t have said that. I was angry, and I spoke without thinking. You know you can always count on me, don’t you?”

She slowly nodded. He was struck by her diminutive stature, her slender build and the delicacy so often overlooked because of her tomboyish appearance and the air of capability she exuded that had carried her through the many hardships life had thrown her way. But now, gazing into her face, he was reminded that she was no longer the rough-and-tumble little imp trailing behind him and his brothers, insistent on joining in their fun.

The muted light of the summer evening washed her fair skin with a pink tinge of health, her cheeks and bee-stung lips the color of delicate rosebuds. The collared button-down shirt she had on was blue like the sky overhead. The bright hue made her eyes glow like the blue sapphire ring Emmett Clawson had taken in on trade a couple of weeks ago and that now occupied a premier spot in the jewelry case for everyone to admire.

With a start, he realized he was staring and Sophie was watching him with an uncharacteristic guardedness. He released her at once. What’s gotten into you, O’Malley?

Clearing his clogged throat, he pivoted away to grip the railing, slowly and methodically cataloging the rows upon rows of cornstalks swaying in the breeze, the stately apple orchard marching along the fields in front of Josh and Kate’s cabin and the forested mountains ringing the valley.

Okay, so Sophie was all grown up now. So what? That didn’t mean he was free to think of her in terms other than neighbor and friend. Disaster lay down that path....

If, and that was a big if, he ever decided to marry, Sophia Lorraine Tanner would not be up for consideration. Not ever.

She was trouble, pure and simple. Too impulsive. Too headstrong. Too much. No, if he did decide to find himself a wife, he’d search for someone sensible, cautious and levelheaded. Someone like him.


Chapter Two

Sophie wrapped a hand around the wooden post for support and attempted to appear nonchalant about the effects of Nathan’s touch. His nearness. It wasn’t as if such touches were rare. They were friends, had been friends as far back as she could remember, and while her handsome neighbor had strict ideas about what constituted appropriate behavior, he was an affectionate man. Compassionate, too. Dependable and trustworthy.

Nathan was everything her wayward pa wasn’t. He would never dream of doing something as despicable as abandoning his pregnant wife and child for another woman.

“How’s Tobias?” he asked.

Sophie tracked a pair of dragonflies flitting on the wind, their iridescent wings a mix of blue and silvery green. The worry she’d battled since her granddad had taken ill three weeks ago eroded her peace of mind. “Still the same. Weak. The medicine Doc Owens gave him doesn’t seem to be helping the cough. I try to encourage him to eat, but he doesn’t have much of an appetite.”

“I’ll ask Ma to make him some of her chicken noodle soup.”

Feeling his gaze on her, she turned her head and found strength and a promise of support in the silver depths. “Surely he won’t be able to resist that.” Her attempt at a smile fell flat. “He won’t get well on my cooking alone.”

Her heart stuttered in her chest. What if he didn’t get better? What would she do without the only real father figure she’d ever had? Her grandfather had practically raised her and her little brother, Will, after her pa left and her ma passed away.

“I don’t like that look on your face,” he gently reproved. “Don’t let your mind go there. We’re all praying for Tobias’s recovery.” A grin transformed his serious face. “Besides, you know as well as I do what a tough old codger he is. Stubborn, too. Though not nearly as stubborn as his granddaughter.”

That earned him a punch in the arm. “If anyone is stubborn around here, it’s you, Nathan O’Malley.”

Chuckling, he rubbed his arm as if it had really hurt. “I won’t deny it.” Jerking his head, he said, “Come on, I’ll walk you home and look in on him. See if I can’t convince him to eat something.”

Following him down the worn steps and into the lush grass, she moved to walk beside him, keenly aware of his height, the restrained power in his hardened body and the self-assuredness with which he carried himself. He smelled of summer, of line-dried clothes and freshly cut hay. And maybe a little of pecans and corn syrup, which made her regret refusing a piece of Mary’s pie.

As they passed the dairy barn, she noticed the cows weren’t crowded around the entrance and all seemed quiet. “You already did the milking?”

“Supper was a tad late getting on the table, so I did it beforehand.”

“On my way here, I spotted Caleb heading for the high country.” She tossed him a sideways glance. “How long is he going to be gone this time?”

Shrugging, he blew out a breath. “I suppose that depends on how long it takes him to snag a bear.”

She dodged a fat bumblebee that zoomed into her path. “When are you going to stop coddling him, Nathan? He has a responsibility to you and the rest of your family.”

“In his mind, he is fulfilling his responsibilities. By stocking the smokehouse with all the meat he brings home, he’s helping to feed the family. Not to mention the trade value of the hides and furs.”

Passing into the dense forest where the air was sweet and cool, the lowering sun’s rays filtered through the towering oaks, maples and various other trees, casting sidelong lines of light that made odd patterns on their clothing.

“I understand the accident changed him...and not only on the outside.” It had been a painful thing to witness the almost night-and-day change in his personality nearly two years ago. She missed the fun-loving, mischievous Caleb and feared her childhood playmate was gone for good. “I just don’t think it’s fair that he goes off whenever he feels like it and leaves you behind to do all the work.”

“It’s frustrating. And sometimes I get resentful.” His gaze volleyed between the root-studded ground and her. “To be honest, I haven’t a clue how to talk to my own brother.”

The admission clearly hadn’t come easily. Nathan wasn’t a complainer. When Caleb had first started taking off for days at a time, Nathan had simply picked up the slack, milking all the cows himself twice a day, feeding and watering them, caring for the sick and expectant, mucking out their stalls, delivering the milk and cheese Mary made to the mercantile. And when he wasn’t doing all that, he was working in the alfalfa, hay and cornfields. His older brother had pitched in to help, but now with his furniture business taking off and Kate expecting for the first time, Josh had little time to spare.

“Why not tell him the truth? That you need him here?”

When his brow creased in contemplation, she reached out and touched the bare forearm exposed by his rolled-up sleeve. The smooth, fine hairs covering the sun-kissed skin tickled her fingertips. She snatched her hand away.

“What?” He threw her a questioning glance.

Clearing her throat, she said almost defensively, “Nothing. Look, I’m concerned about you, that’s all. You work too hard.”

“I can say the same about you.”

Their gazes met and clung. Sophie basked in the warmth of his rare and fleeting admiration. Then he grabbed her hand and tugged her sideways, saving her from smacking face-first into a tree. He chuckled low in his chest. Feeling foolish, she concentrated on the path beneath her heavy black boots.

In the branches far above their heads, birds twittered, hooted and warbled in a melodious tune that echoed through the understory. She loved this place, the vast forest both awe-inspiring and peaceful, expansive yet somehow intimate; a testament to God’s power and creativity. A gift of both beauty and practicality.

She loved her home. Had no itch like some people her age to venture out of these East Tennessee mountains and experience city life. Imagine the gawking stares a tomboy like you would get in the city! The folks of Gatlinburg knew her and accepted her for what and who she was: a simple farm girl just trying to survive, to keep the farm afloat, to be both mother and father to her brother and caretaker of her beloved granddad. She had no grand dreams for her own future, no big expectations. Better to take each day as it came.

The trees thinned, allowing more light to spill into the meadows as they neared her family’s property. Much smaller than the O’Malley farm, the Tanner spread consisted of a single-pen cabin in the midst of a small clearing, a cantilever barn whose top-heavy structure resembled a wooden mushroom, a very tall, very skinny chicken coop and a springhouse straddling the cold, rushing waters of the stream winding through the trees. A small garden beside the cabin provided just enough vegetables for the three of them. Compared to Nathan’s place, her farm looked worn around the edges, a bit forlorn, the buildings sagging and bare. Even if she had the resources to fix everything that needed attention, there wasn’t enough time in the day. Still, she loved this land that she poured so much of her heart and soul into.

“Hey, Nathan!” Crouched in the water, Will let the large rock he was looking under resettle in the silt and hurried up the bank. He snatched up his pail and crossed the grass in his bare feet, unmindful of his mud-splashed overalls.

“Hey, buddy.” Always patient with her ten-year-old brother, Nathan greeted him with a ready smile. “What you got there?”

“I caught five crawdads. Wanna see?” He held up the pail, enthusiasm shining in his blue eyes handed down from their mother, the same hue as her own. A streak of dirt was smeared across his forehead and flecks of it clung to his brown hair.

Nathan peered at the miniature lobsterlike creatures and made an approving grunt. “Looks like you got some big ones.”

“Will, where are your shoes?” Sophie frowned. “What happens if you step on a bee or cut your foot on a rock?”

He rolled his eyes. “I won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You worry too much.” He laughed off her concern. “I’m going to see if I can catch some more. See ya, Nathan.”

The last year had wrought many changes in her brother and not all of them bad. He’d shot up two inches, his face had thinned out and he was always hungry. A bright kid in possession of a tender heart, his boyish enthusiasm had calmed and smiles had to be coaxed out of him. More and more it seemed as if he was pulling away from her in an effort to gain his independence. The brother she’d practically raised herself was growing up, and she didn’t know how she felt about that.

“An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure,” she called to his retreating back.

Nathan angled toward her and lifted a sardonic eyebrow. “Prevention, huh? I wonder if you thought about that right before you plunged off the falls? Or when you befriended that stray wolf that everyone warned you was probably rabid? Oh, and what about the time Jimmy Newman dared you to cross the fallen log high above Abram’s Creek with your eyes closed?” He scowled. “Thought for sure my heart was going to give out that time.”

Sophie resisted the urge to squirm. Why couldn’t he conveniently forget her past shenanigans like a true gentleman? “If you’ll remember, I made it across just fine.” She brushed past him and headed for the cabin. “And that was a dog, not a wolf,” she corrected, tossing the words over her shoulder.

“And what about the falls?” His challenging tone stopped her.

She turned around. “What about it?”

He prowled toward her, residual anger churning in his stormy eyes, reminding her of that long-ago summer day and the frothy, forceful water that had sucked her under, stealing her breath until she’d thought her lungs might burst. And then strong arms had wrapped around her waist, pulling her to safety. How well she recalled him frantically calling her name. His hands cradling her with a tenderness she hadn’t known since she was a little girl, since before her mother died. How amazing...how sweetly wonderful it had felt to be held in his arms!

It was in that moment that she’d realized she was in love with Nathan O’Malley. And, as his concern had morphed into a familiar lecture, she had known he would never love her back.

His features were set in an obstinate expression. “You nearly died, Sophie.”

“That was four years ago. Why are you so angry all of a sudden?”

“I’m not angry, exactly.” He paused, a tiny crease between his brows as he mulled over his next words. “I just want you to take your own advice. Think before you act. Exercise caution.”

In other words, think like he did. Frustration over her own shortcomings and the futility of trying to please him sharpened her voice. “Is this about the skunk? Because I’m not sure what else you expect me to say—”

“No, it’s not that.” He dropped his hands to his sides. “Let’s just drop it, okay? I’m going inside.”

This time, it was he who brushed past her. Why did she suddenly feel as if she’d been dismissed?

* * *

The inside of the Tanners’ cabin looked much the same as it had when he was a young boy. Plain. Austere. The small glass windows were clean but bare. No pictures adorned the thick log walls. There was only one rug, faded and worn and situated close to the stone fireplace opposite the cast-iron stove. A simple square table with four chairs, a brown sofa that had obviously seen better days and two rocking chairs were the only furnishings. Tobias slept in the single bedroom beside the kitchen while Sophie and Will shared the loft space overhead.

What the place lacked was a feminine touch.

As he passed the fireplace, his gaze lit on a small tintype of Sophie and Will’s parents, Lester and Jeanine Tanner. He barely remembered Sophie’s mother. Not surprising considering he’d been thirteen when she died giving birth to Will. A quiet woman, she’d hovered in the background like a shadow as if to blend in. Perhaps to avoid attracting her husband’s attention?

Unfortunately, Nathan remembered Lester Tanner all too well. The man was hateful, lazy and in possession of an explosive temper that all the local kids feared and tried their best to avoid. The family was well rid of him.

He couldn’t help but wonder if Sophie might have turned out differently had she had a mother’s tender hand to guide her instead of being thrust into the role of caretaker at eight years old.

He tapped lightly on the door standing ajar. “Tobias?”

A breathy voice beckoned him in. He moved deeper into the shadows where a single kerosene lamp on the bedside table cast the elderly man’s face in sharp relief. Nathan sucked in a startled breath, alarmed at Tobias’s frailty and the changes wrought in the one week since he’d last seen his neighbor. Knowing Tobias wouldn’t appreciate his pity, he carefully schooled his features.

Easing into the straight-backed chair beside the bed, he folded his hands in his lap. “How are you today?”

“Not so good.” The cloudy blue eyes staring back at him were filled with resignation.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Your granddaughter tells me you don’t have much of an appetite. How about I bring some soup tomorrow?”

Bringing one gnarled hand up to cover a cough, the gray-headed man shook his head, panted to catch his breath. “I appreciate the offer, son, but not even Mary’s cooking sounds good these days.”

Nathan swallowed against sudden sorrow. He sensed Sophie’s grandfather had given up.

“I’m glad you’re here. Need to talk to you about Sophie and Will.” Sadness tugged at Tobias’s craggy face. “I’m worried more about my granddaughter than I am about the boy. Can I count on you to watch out for her after I’m gone? She may act tough but inside she’s as sensitive as her mother.” His chest rattled as he pulled in more air. “She needs someone to take care of her for a change.”

“My family and I will always be here for them. But you’re strong, sir. I have faith you can beat this.”

“No, son, I’m ready to meet my Lord and Savior face-to-face. And I long to see my sweet Anne and Jeanine again. It’s time.”

Throat working to contain the tide of emotion, Nathan surged to his feet and stepped over to the window. Beyond the warped glass, Sophie unpinned laundry from the line and placed it in the basket at her feet. The sight of her pensive expression made his heart weigh like a stone in his chest. Losing Tobias, the closest thing to a parent she’d ever known, would devastate her. How in the world was he supposed to help her deal with that?


Chapter Three

Sophie bolted upright in bed. What was that awful racket?

Her hens’ hysterical squawking shattered the quiet. Her heart sank. At this time of night, it could only mean one thing—predator.

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, she shoved the quilt aside and sank her tired feet into her boots without bothering to lace them. In the bed opposite hers, only the top of Will’s head was visible above his blanket. Thankful his slumber hadn’t been disturbed, she made her way to the ladder in the inky darkness, rushed to light the lamp on the table below.

“Sophie?” Somehow her grandfather’s breathless voice reached her above the din.

“I’m here.” She wished he’d been able to sleep through this as easily as Will. He desperately needed his rest if he was going to recover. “I’m going outside to investigate.”

“Watch yourself, ya hear?”

A grim frown touched her mouth at his labored effort to speak. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”

White cotton nightgown swishing around her ankles, she lifted her trusty Winchester from its place above the mantel and headed into the sticky night.

The barn loomed large in the semidarkness, the brittle structure and surrounding trees washed with weak moonlight. Adrenaline pumping, she rounded the corner of the cabin and stopped dead at the sight that greeted her. Her fingers went slack on the gun handle.

Her too-tall henhouse was no more. It had been tipped over and smashed into a hundred bits and pieces by an enormous black bear that was even now pawing one of her hens with the intent to devour it. Those who had managed to escape the beast’s jaws were running around in endless circles.

“What have you done to my chickens?” Outrage choked any fear she might have had. They needed those birds and the precious eggs they produced.

Hefting the rifle up, she found the trigger and aimed for the air directly above his head. She should kill him. Considering his size, the meat would likely sustain them for a month or more. Not to mention the hide sure would make a nice rug for the living room.

But she wouldn’t. Killing animals for food was a part of mountain life, and she had no issue with that—as long as the animal was a pig or chicken or fish. But bears, well, they fascinated her. Had ever since she was a little girl and she’d happened upon a mama and her three cubs fishing in a stream farther up in the mountains. The cubs had been so cute and playful, the mama tough yet tender and fiercely protective, that Sophie had hidden in the bushes and watched, barely breathing, until they’d moved on.

Focus, Sophie. Anchoring the butt against her shoulder, she fired off a single shot.

A limp hen caught between his teeth, the bear lifted his head and shifted his opaque black eyes to her. Her lungs strained for air. Don’t make me shoot you. He took a step in her direction. Again, she aimed above his head. Fired a second time.

When the lumbering beast casually turned and disappeared into the forest, Sophie released the air in a relieved whoosh and lowered the gun, muscles as limp as soggy corn bread. She surveyed the damage, dreading the job that awaited her come daylight. Weariness settled deep in her bones. They couldn’t afford to purchase lumber for a new henhouse. How was she supposed to find time to chop down trees, strip and saw them into planks when so many other chores awaited her?

Anxiety nipped at her heels as she coaxed the addled hens into the barn for the night. What she really wanted to do was park herself at Granddad’s bedside until she was absolutely certain he was on the mend. A frisson of stark, cold despair worked its way through her body; the possibility of losing him looming like a menacing shadow. How sad that she simply couldn’t spare the time. Not if the animals were to be fed, the vegetable garden tended, the laundry mended and washed, and food placed on the table.

Feeling sorry for yourself won’t get you anywhere, Sophia Lorraine.

Traversing the tomblike yard, words of defeat slipped from her lips. “Lord Jesus, sometimes I just don’t know how I can go on like this.”

Sometimes she wondered what it might be like to have a strong man around to help shoulder the burdens. A partner. A helpmate. Someone like Nathan—strong and valiant and willing and able to meet any challenge. A man who could be both tough and tender. Sort of like that mama bear, she thought as she replaced the Winchester on its hooks.

But while her heart pined for him, in his eyes she was nothing more than an irritating brat. A down-on-her-luck neighbor he was forced to tolerate and occasionally rescue.

“Everything all right?” Tobias called.

Entering his room, she crossed to the narrow bed, straightened the quilts and took his hand between hers, tenderness welling in her chest at the feel of his feeble, knotted fingers.

“Everything’s fine. You should go back to sleep.”

“I worry about you.” His eyes gleamed in the darkness. “This farm is too much for one young girl to manage.”

She stroked his hand, determined to put his fears to rest. To ignore her own reservations. “I’m not a little girl anymore, you know,” she gently reminded him. “I may not look like much but I can work as hard as any man.”

“I’m not doubting your abilities, Sophie, but I want more for you and Will. I—” his chest expanded “—don’t want you to struggle—” and deflated “—alone. Maybe it’s time you settled down.”

Her brows shot up, stunned at this first mention of marriage. “Why would I want to get hitched? Besides, I’m not alone. I’ve got you.”

When he didn’t respond, she leaned down and kissed his wrinkled forehead, smoothed his wispy gray hair. “I think we’ll leave this conversation for when we’re both rested and thinking straight. Good night.”

“’Night.” He sighed.

Pausing to grip the doorframe, she turned back, compelled to speak words rarely spoken between them. Not because they didn’t care but because emotional expressions just wasn’t their way. “I love you, Granddad.”

“I love you, too.” Pride and affection thrummed in his voice.

Once again in her bed, with no one around to witness her emotional display, she allowed the tears to fall, slipping silently onto her pillow. Fear, cold and black and relentless, threatened to crush her. The what-ifs, the endless responsibilities, nearly overwhelmed her.

Having a man around full-time would help. But was a husband really the answer? Her father’s temper, his disdain for her mother and contempt for Sophie made her reluctant to hand over her life to just any man.

Their future was too important to gamble on.

* * *

Wiping the moisture from her forehead with her sleeve, Sophie tried once again to lift what used to be the henhouse’s right sidewall. It refused to budge. A gloved hand appeared out of nowhere and covered her own. She jerked back and in the process scraped her palm on the jagged wood.

“Nathan!” She stared as he heaved the wall up as if it weighed nothing, shoulders and biceps straining his white-and-blue pin-striped shirt, and lowered it out of the way onto the grass. “What are you doing here?”

Pink and purple fingers of dawn gradually chased away black sky, lightening the wide expanse above to a pale blue. He should be at home milking his cows, not standing here in front of her with his hair damp and his cheeks smooth and touchable from a recent shave, his beautiful eyes gazing at her with resolute intentions.

“I ran into Will downstream and he mentioned what happened.” His gaze swept the scattered feathers and eggshells, the bucket filled with carcasses and the splintered wood on the ground before zeroing in on her face. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She shrugged off his concern. “I managed to scare him off with two shots.”

“You could’ve killed him.”

“You know how I feel about bears.”

Stepping over the mess, he stopped in front of her, his chest filling her vision as he took the hand she’d been clutching against her midsection in his. He gently unfurled her fingers and lifted her palm up for a better view. Her stupid heart actually fluttered. Wouldn’t he be amused if he knew how he affected her? Amused or horrified, one of the two.

His lips turned down. “This is a pretty bad scrape.” Pulling a red handkerchief from his pants’ pocket, he wound it around her palm and tucked the ends under. “Why aren’t you wearing gloves?”

She wouldn’t tell him that they were too far gone to provide any sort of protection and she didn’t have the means to buy a new pair. Better he think her foolish than pity her.

She slipped her hand from his grasp. “You’re right, I should have put them on.”

A flicker of understanding warned her that he suspected the truth, but he didn’t voice it. Instead he tugged off his own gloves and handed them to her.

“I can’t take yours.”

“Josh will be here soon. I have another pair in the wagon.” He began to pick up the broken boards and pitch them in a pile.

“Why is Josh coming?” She gingerly pushed her fingers into the large deerskin gloves, the lingering heat from his hands a caress against her skin.

“He’s bringing the lumber we need to rebuild your henhouse.”

“He’s what?”

Nathan tossed another board and arched a brow at her. “Now don’t get all huffy on me. We have plenty to spare.”

“You know I can’t pay you.”

“Don’t expect payment.” Shrugging, he turned his attention back to his task.

Torn, she fiddled with the end of her thick braid. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful—”

“Then just say ‘thank you’ and let us help you.” He was using his extra-patient voice, the one he used to coax her into seeing his side of things.

Frowning, she bent to gather crushed eggshells. For as long as she could remember, the O’Malleys had been there for her family, stepping in to help whenever they had a problem or a need to be met. And while she was extremely thankful for their generosity, it was difficult to always be on the receiving end.

As the jingle of harnesses spilled across the meadows, they both straightened and turned toward the lane. “There he is now.” Nathan dusted his hands on his pants and started forward to meet his brother.

Trailing behind him, she spotted Will perched on the seat beside Josh. As if sensing her unspoken question, Nathan tossed an explanation over his shoulder. “Will wanted to help load the wood. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“No, of course not.”

When the team halted, Will jumped down and joined Nathan at the back. Josh waved and smiled a greeting. “Hey, Sophie.”

“Morning, Josh.”

The eldest son of Sam and Mary O’Malley, Josh was a more laid-back, more outgoing version of Nathan. Only two years apart, they shared similar features. Both were tall, tanned and gorgeous. Josh’s hair was a touch lighter than Nathan’s, his eyes blue instead of silver and he sported a trim mustache and goatee that lent him a distinguished air.

He never looked at her with disapproval. But then, she’d never yearned for Josh’s approval like she did Nathan’s.

“How’s Kate getting along?” she asked.

His smile widened, eyes shining with a deep contentment that made Sophie a little jealous. Okay, more than a little. What she wouldn’t give to inspire such emotions in Nathan!

“She’s feeling a lot better these days—as long as she steers clear of my brother.” He shot Nathan a teasing look, laughing when he scowled in response.

Suppressing a grimace, she gestured toward the wagon. “You’re a good neighbor.”

“And here I thought we were friends.” He winked.

“You know what I meant.” She smirked, following him to the rear of the wagon.

When they had finished unloading the lumber, Josh turned to her. “Sorry I can’t stay and help, but I’ve got to deliver a dining set before lunch.”

“I understand you’ve got a lot to do. It’s no problem.”

He hooked a thumb toward the cabin. “Before I go, I’d like to say hello to Tobias if he’s awake.”

“Yes, please do,” she said, smiling through her worry. “He’d like that.”

As Josh let himself in the cabin, Nathan and Will joined her beneath the wide-limbed oak tree. Even though the sun had a long way yet to climb, the air was thick with humidity and the promise of scorching heat.

“I don’t want beans again for supper,” her brother informed her, sweat glistening on his face, “so I’m going fishing. Will you fry up my catch?”

While they could use his help with the henhouse, beans for the third night in a row didn’t appeal to Sophie, either. Maybe fried fish would tempt Granddad to eat. “Sure thing.” She squelched the urge to smooth his hair. A few years ago, he wouldn’t have minded. Things were different now, though.

She watched as he ambled off to the barn to fetch his fishing pole.

“Are you ready to get started?” Nathan prompted.

She shifted her gaze to his face, shadowed by his Stetson’s black brim. “Not yet.”

“Uh-oh, I’ve seen that look before. What’s on your mind?”

“If you want to help me, you have to allow me to give you something in return.”

Something mysterious slipped through his eyes, something she’d never seen before—a mini-explosion of heat and want immediately contained, hidden from view as if it had never been. Her heart thudded in her hollowed-out chest. What—

“Sausages,” he blurted.

“Huh?”

His entire body stiff, he turned and walked away, jerking up the ends of four long planks and dragging them toward the spot where they would rebuild.

“Everyone knows you make the best-tasting sausages around. If you insist on paying me, I’ll take some of those.”

Sophie stayed where she was, not a little confused by his reaction to a simple statement. “Okay. Sausages it is. If you’re sure that’s what you want.”

He dropped the planks and shot her an enigmatic look. “I’m positive that’s all I want from you.”

She went to help him, certain she was missing something and feeling her mother’s absence more keenly than ever.


Chapter Four

Three hours later, Nathan hammered the last nail into place on the new roof. Despite his fatigue, the thin film of sweat coating his skin and the hunger pangs in his belly, satisfaction brought a smile to his face. He stepped back to admire his and Sophie’s handiwork.

This henhouse was shorter and wider than the original...and all but impossible to tip over. A small ladder led up to the hatch above the man-size door, allowing the chickens to come and go as they pleased during the day.

“What do you think, Soph?” He glanced over to where she was replacing her tools in the box.

She shot him a tired smile over her shoulder. “I think this one will outlast you and me both.” When she stretched out her hand to snag her hammer lying in the grass, he noticed her fingers shaking.

Chucking his own hammer on the ground, he crossed to the elm tree and the basket of food he’d put there. “Can you help me with something?”

Straightening, she flipped her golden braid behind her shoulder and joined him without a word, taking the ends of the red, white and blue pinwheel quilt he held out to her and helping him spread it on the ground.

“Now what?” She looked to him for direction.

“Have a seat.” He knelt on the quilt and withdrew the smoked ham and cheese sandwiches, jar of pickled beets and container of coleslaw.

Eyeing the bounty, she gestured behind her. “I should put my tools in the barn and go check on Granddad.”

“You checked on him fifteen minutes ago.” He lifted two mason jars full of sweet tea and propped them against the trunk. “How about you eat something first? I packed enough for both of us. Will, too. I’m sure he’ll come ’round when he’s hungry.”

She wavered.

Nathan produced a cloth-covered plate. “Aren’t you curious what’s under here?” he teased.

When Sophie sank down on the quilt, the hunger finally showing on her face, he couldn’t suppress a grin.

“Oatmeal cookies?” she asked hopefully.

“Nope.”

Tapping her chin, she mused, “Peach turnovers?”

“Uh-uh.”

She threw up her hands. “Tell me already.”

He lifted the white cloth to reveal thick slices of apple crumb cake.

“Mind if I have my dessert first?” She grinned mischievously and swiped a slice, humming with pleasure as she sank her teeth into the spicy-sweet cake.

Nathan couldn’t tear his gaze away. Her eyes were closed, and he noticed for the first time how her thick lashes lay like fans against her cheeks, how her neat brows arched with an intriguing, sassy tilt above her lids. A breeze stirred the wisps of hair framing her oval face.

She opened her eyes then, caught him staring and flushed. Shrugged self-consciously. “I forgot to eat breakfast.”

He pointed to where stray crumbs clung to her lips. “You, ah, have some, ah...”

Averting her gaze, she brushed them away. He turned his attention to his sandwich, his thoughts flitting around like lightning bugs trapped in a jar. Why all of a sudden was he noticing these things about her? Why was he acutely aware of her appearance when he hadn’t been before? Whatever had caused the change, he didn’t like it. Not one bit. Not only was this preoccupation inconvenient, it had the potential to embarrass them both.

Halfway through his meal, he put two and two together. If Sophie went too long between meals she got jittery and light-headed. And it had been right around suppertime when he had come upon her and that skunk.

He lowered his sandwich to his lap. “Sophie?”

“What?”

“The other day when the skunk had you cornered, why didn’t you tell me you were feeling puny?”

She swallowed her last bite of cake and looked at him in surprise. “You didn’t give me a chance.”

Of course he didn’t. He’d been livid. “I’m sorry.”

She hitched a shoulder. “I could’ve waited a little longer. Moved a little slower.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Your well-being comes first, no matter what.”

Remembering how he’d scolded her, he grimaced, regret tightening his stomach.

It was a pattern, he realized. Back when they were kids and she’d first insisted on tagging along with him and his brothers, he alone had seemed to mind her presence. Josh had treated her with the same teasing affection as he did their cousins, and Caleb, impressed with her adventurous spirit, had been thrilled to have her around. Not Nathan. More often than not, the two of them had been at odds. While he was cautious and tended to think before he acted, she was impetuous and spontaneous and didn’t always anticipate the consequences of her actions.

Which led to disagreements. And him lecturing her like an overbearing older brother.

She’s not a little girl anymore, O’Malley. She’s a mature young woman in charge of her own life and capable of making her own decisions. No doubt she doesn’t appreciate your know-it-all behavior.

Perhaps it was time to step back and give her some space. This friendship of theirs was morphing into something unrecognizable, with strange new facets he wasn’t quite comfortable with.

* * *

Sophie didn’t know what to say. Or think. Nathan was an intelligent man. Perceptive, too. A quality that served him well in dealing with his five female cousins. That he’d noticed her need just now—the shakes had set in with a vengeance right about the time she’d begun sorting her tools—and understood that her haste the other day had stemmed from the same issue didn’t surprise her.

Hasn’t he always watched out for you? Even when he was tempted to throttle you.

It was true. Nathan’s protective instincts were legendary. Not only had she heard the O’Malley girls complain about his overprotective ways, she herself had been on the receiving end of his lectures countless times—lengthy discourses about safety and the wisdom of taking proper precautions—and, she recalled with a shudder, his ire when he thought she’d acted recklessly. To give him credit, many times she had deserved his set-downs.

What she couldn’t figure out was why he was acting strangely today. There was a distracted air about him, a confounded light in his eyes that aroused her curiosity.

As she finished her sandwich, the salty ham and cheese between soft white bread chasing away her hunger pangs, he helped himself to the cake.

She dabbed her mouth with her napkin before broaching the subject that had been bothering her ever since she’d interrupted the conversation between him and her granddad last evening.

“What were you and Granddad talking about when I came into his room? The two of you looked awfully serious.”

Nathan’s bleak expression had troubled her long into the night.

Now he schooled his features into a careful blandness that scared her. If he was trying to avoid hurting her, then she was right to worry.

“Nothing special.” His fingers tightened on the jar balanced on his thigh. “I tried to tempt him with Ma’s cooking but he insisted he wasn’t hungry. He doesn’t seem to have much energy.”

An understatement. “Doc Owens has been tight-lipped, as usual, but I can tell by his manner that he’s concerned.”

“When is he supposed to come and check on him again?”

“In a couple of days, unless he gets worse and I need him before then....” Please, Lord, don’t let that be the case. “Are you sure that’s all you talked about? He didn’t say anything strange?”

Nathan lifted the jar to his mouth. “Like what?”

“Like asking you to marry me.”

He choked. Sputtered. “Marry you?” His brows shot to his hairline, and he jammed his thumb into his chest. “Me? And you?”

Humiliation burned in her cheeks. Shoving to her feet, she glared down at him with clenched fists. “Is the prospect of marrying me so distasteful, then? You think no man in this town would want me?”

“No! That’s not it!” He quickly stood, his eyes dark and searching. “You just shocked me is all. D-did Tobias suggest it to you?”

“No.”

The relief skittering across his face pierced her heart. Sent her confidence tumbling. Unable to look at him, she observed a ladybug clinging to a swaying stalk at her feet. “He did suggest I start thinking of settling down. That I need a man around to take care of me,” she scoffed. “Imagine!”

She’d been taking care of herself since she was eight. Why did Granddad think she needed help?

Weren’t you thinking the same thing just last night? an unwelcome voice reminded.

“He’s your grandfather. Of course he wants to see you settled and happy.” Nathan looked particularly unsettled, a line forming between his brows as he looked past her to the cabin.

“A husband can’t guarantee me that.” Her own mother’s misery was proof.

He shifted his gaze back to hers. “Tobias wants to make certain your future is taken care of.”

“You make it sound as if he’s not going to be around for it,” she accused.

“Sophie—” He moved to close the distance between them, but the sympathy wreathing his mouth sent her a step back, away from him.

“Don’t.” She held up a staying hand. She couldn’t handle his compassion right this moment, couldn’t bring herself to face what was happening to her grandfather. Not if she didn’t want the tears welling up to spill over. Losing control of her emotions in front of this man wasn’t something she was willing to do.

Will’s whistling saved her.

Nathan twisted around, silent as her brother approached with a proud smile, pail swinging from one hand and his pole in the other. “I caught four rainbow trout,” he told them, lifting the pail for them to inspect.

“Nice catch,” Nathan admitted, but his somber gaze was on Sophie.

“I’ll take those inside for you,” she quickly volunteered, taking the pail from his willing hand. Tilting her head to indicate the quilt spread out behind them, she said, “Nathan brought us lunch. Help yourself.”

Will’s eyes lit up. “Miss Mary’s the best cook around.” Setting his pole out of the way, he plopped down and began rifling through the basket.

Before Nathan could speak, she rushed ahead. “Thank you for everything today. I should go in and change. I have errands in town this afternoon.”

He nodded slowly. “I have chores waiting, too. I’ll keep Will company while he eats, then head out.”

“See you later, then?”

“Later.”

The promise in his deep baritone let her know not only would he be seeing her, but sooner or later they would finish this conversation.

* * *

The bell above the mercantile door jingled. Sophie didn’t look up from the two thread spools she was trying to choose between. Because her brother spent much of his time on his knees in the creek, it seemed like every other week there was another tear for her to mend.

Light footfalls and feminine giggles drifted closer. She frowned. Recognizing the voices, she peered over her shoulder and spotted April Littleton and her two closest friends, sisters Lila and Norma Jean Oglesby. The same age as Sophie, the trio was extremely popular with Gatlinburg’s single male population. And why shouldn’t they be? Besides being beautiful and stylish in their pastel dresses and beribboned curls, they were accomplished flirts, able to monopolize a man’s attention with very little effort.

Next to them, Sophie felt ordinary. Gauche.

April caught her staring. Brown eyes narrowing, she made no attempts to hide her disdain.

“Hello, Sophie.” Her nose pinched as if the air around her suddenly reeked.

An only child born to her parents late in life, April had been coddled and adored from the moment of her birth, and the results were a spoiled, self-absorbed young woman. Her parents weren’t well-off, just simple farm folk like many of the families in this mountain town, but they scrimped and saved to be able to outfit her as if she was a city debutante.

“Hi, Sophie.” Lila offered her a tentative smile. The older sister, Norma Jean, remained silent. Both were slender, blonde and blue-eyed with fair skin.

“Hello.” She quickly replaced one of the spools without making a conscious color choice. No reason to linger for what would prove to be an unpleasant encounter.

April’s jealousy fueled her dislike of Sophie. Not of her appearance, of course. April didn’t consider her competition. It was Sophie’s friendship with Nathan that she envied. Even if Lila hadn’t let that little nugget slip, it was obvious the dark beauty wanted him for herself, and it killed her that Sophie shared any sort of connection with him.

“We were discussing our outfits for the church social tomorrow night,” April said with mock innocence. “What are you going to wear, Sophie?”

Clutching the thread, she pivoted to face them. Shrugged as if she didn’t care. “I haven’t given it much thought.”

April raked her from head to toe and shot a knowing glance at Norma Jean. “Of course you haven’t.”

“Tell her about your new dress,” Lila encouraged her friend, her round face devoid of malice. Sophie sometimes wondered why Lila would waste her time with a girl like April. The seventeen-year-old appeared to have a good heart.

April’s eyes shone with confidence as she ran her hands over her glossy brown ringlets. “It’s buttercup-yellow...”

She went on to describe the dress in excruciating detail. Sophie tuned her out, biding her time until she could escape. She had no interest in scalloped hems and pearl buttons.

The mention of Nathan’s name snapped her out of her reverie.

“What was that about Nathan?”

“I’m making Nathan’s favorite for the social. Apple pie.”

Sophie bit her lip. That wasn’t his favorite—it was rhubarb.

“What are you bringing?” Norma Jean smirked. “Sausages?”

The girls’ laughter stirred her temper. For once, Sophie wanted to prove she was as capable as any other girl. “Actually, I’m baking a pie, too,” she blurted.

The laughter died off as all three stared at her in amazement.

A delicate wrinkle formed between Lila’s brows. “I didn’t know you baked.”

“Everyone knows she doesn’t,” Norma Jean muttered in a too-loud aside.

April, however, grinned in expectant pleasure. “Well, I, for one, am looking forward to tasting your pie. What kind is it?”

“Rhubarb.”

“Oh, how...interesting. I’ll look for it tomorrow night. Let’s go, girls. I want to find just the right color hair ribbon to match my dress.”

Sophie hesitated, watching as they gravitated toward the fabrics whispering feverishly together, before hurrying to the counter to pay for her purchase.

Outside, walking along Main Street, she was oblivious to the sun’s ruthless heat, the stench of horse manure and the nods of greeting aimed her way.

What had she gotten herself into?

She didn’t know how to bake! After her ma passed, Granddad had taught her the basics: how to fry bacon and eggs, how to make flapjacks and corn bread. Stews and soups. Roast chicken. And, of course, beans. That was the extent of her kitchen skills. Not once had she attempted to bake a cake, let alone a pie.

What had she been thinking? Despite her trepidation, she couldn’t back out. She refused to give April the satisfaction.

Determination lengthening her steps, she reached the cabin in less than the usual time. Sophie had found a collection of recipes in her ma’s cedar chest a while back. Surely there was something in there she could use.

As she cut across the yard, her gaze went to the new henhouse. She stopped short. There, strutting around in the dirt, were approximately five new chickens. Dark Brahmas, a hearty breed revered for their gentle disposition. She pushed the door open and entered the dark interior of the cabin.

“Will?” She set her small package on the table. “Granddad?”

“In here.”

“Hey, there.” Sinking gently down on the edge of Tobias’s bed, she held his hand. Propped against a mountain of pillows, his skin had a sallow cast. “Can I get you anything? Would you like for me to open the curtains? It’s a bit stuffy in here.” And dreary, she thought, compared to the bright summer day outside.

His dry, cracked lips shifted into a grimace as he shook his head.

“I noticed some unfamiliar chickens outside. Do you know anything about that?”

“Nathan,” he wheezed. “He brought us two dozen eggs, too.”

To replace the ones they’d lost. She squeezed her eyes tight, deeply touched by the gesture.

“You all right?”

She inhaled a fortifying breath and eased off the bed. “How does a cup of chamomile tea sound?”

“No need to trouble yourself—”

“It’s no trouble at all. I’ll make some for both of us. We’ll sit together and drink our tea and visit.” The endless farm demands could wait a little while longer.

In the kitchen, she filled the scuffed tin teakettle with water from the bucket and set it on the stovetop, then added kindling to the firebox. As she readied two mugs, her mind refused to budge from Nathan.

Why did he have to go out of his way to be thoughtful? It would make things easier if he were hateful. Or selfish. Maybe then she wouldn’t yearn for his high regard. Maybe then she wouldn’t entertain foolish, impossible dreams. Maybe, just maybe, she would see him as no one special, an ordinary guy who didn’t matter to her at all.


Chapter Five

At one end of the dairy barn lit by kerosene lamps hanging from post hooks, Nathan stood in front of the waist-high wooden shelves replacing lids on the crocks of milk he’d just filled. In the stalls stretching out behind him on either side of the center aisle, his cows were happily munching hay.

In the corner where they kept a bin of clean water, he washed and dried his hands, the familiar scents of cowhide, hay and fresh milk filling his lungs. Satisfaction pulsed through him. He relished his work, the straightforward nature of it and the solitude. He liked that he could plant a seed of corn and watch it grow tall, witness a calf enter this world and help it thrive. Farming was in his blood, passed down from his father and grandfather and great-grandfather. If he could do this for the rest of his life, he’d be a happy man. No need for a wife or kids. Well, kids might be nice. A wife he wasn’t so sure about.

Mentally rehashing that awful turn in his and Sophie’s conversation yesterday, he grimaced. He hadn’t meant to hurt her feelings. It was just that the notion of a union between the two of them was so absurd as to be laughable. He and Sophie were like oil and water, dry forest and lightning. They just didn’t mix. Not romantically, anyway.

The barn door creaked and he turned, expecting to see his pa. But there, framed in the predawn darkness, stood Sophie, a cloth-covered bucket in her arms.

“Hey. Is everything all right?” Laying the cloth on the shelf, he went to her, hoping against hope this early morning visit and the shadows beneath her eyes didn’t mean what he thought it might.

One slender shoulder lifted. “I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I might as well bring over the sausages I promised you.”

Nathan exhaled. He accepted the bucket she held out, tucking it against his middle while he did a careful study of her. Aside from the troubled light in her eyes, she looked much the same as usual. Her long hair had been freshly brushed and plaited, the sleek, honeyed strands pulled back from her face, emphasizing her cheekbones and the gentle curve of her jaw.

“Thanks for these.” He cocked his head. “Walk with me to the springhouse?”

“Yeah.” Noticing the crocks, she walked over and slipped her hands around one. “How many are you storing?”

“Just two this time. I’m taking one to Ma and the rest will go to Clawson’s. That’s heavy,” he said when she started to lift it. “Why don’t you take the sausages and I’ll get the milk?”

Before Tobias got sick, a suggestion like that would’ve gotten him an earful. Sophie didn’t take kindly to insinuations that she was weak or incapable. The fact that she didn’t protest was proof of her preoccupation.

Using the moon’s light to guide them, they walked the dirt path to the stream and the stone springhouse that housed perishables. Trickling water intruded upon the hushed stillness of the fields and forest. Beside him, Sophie was silent.

I don’t know what to say to ease her anxiety, God. I don’t like seeing her like this. Please show me how to help her. How to reassure her.

Stooping beneath the low doorframe, he carefully placed the containers inside and pulled the door closed, letting the latch fall into place. When he straightened, he noticed her staring at the moonlight-kissed stones scattered in the streambed. Her lost expression tugged at his heart and made him want to wrap his arms around her and shelter her from heartache.

She’d been dealt too many blows in her life. If Tobias didn’t make it, would she break? The idea terrified him. Sophie was one of the strongest people he knew. He couldn’t imagine her any other way.

He stood close but didn’t hug her. Instead he reached out to graze the back of her hand and somehow found his fingers threading through hers. Her head came up, blue eyes flashing to his, dark and questioning. She didn’t pull away, though, and he decided it would be awkward to disengage now. Besides, her skin was cold, the bones fragile. Let his heat warm her.

Friends could hold hands and not have it mean anything, couldn’t they?

“What you did yesterday...” she said, her voice muted. “The henhouse, the chickens and eggs... It means a lot to me. To all of us. Thank you.”

“I did it because I wanted to, not because I felt I had to,” he pointed out. “I like helping you.”

As long as he was able, he’d eagerly meet any and all of the Tanners’ needs. Growing up, he’d witnessed his parents’ generosity toward others, giving selflessly of their time, energy and possessions. It was a lesson he’d taken to heart.

“I know.”

She surprised him by laying a hand against his chest. Her touch seared through the material, scorching his skin. His heart jerked.

“You’re a good man, Nathan. The best.” Then, as if deciding she’d said too much, she pulled free of his hold. “I should go.”

“Wait.” Sophie didn’t often dole out praise, so it meant a lot coming from her. He just couldn’t figure out why she’d sounded so resigned. So solemn. “Are you going to the social tonight?”

She grimaced. “I am. Mrs. Beecham cornered me last week and insisted on sitting with Granddad so that Will and I could go. There’s no arguing with that woman.”

“It’ll be good for you to get out and socialize.”

She looked dubious. “If you say so.”

“Think of all the delicious food you’ll have to choose from.”

Her mouth lifted in a pretty, albeit fleeting, smile. “Since I don’t dance, the food is the biggest draw for me, you know. And speaking of food, I have to get back before Granddad or Will wake to find me gone. They’ll be wanting their breakfast. I need to get to it.”

“See you later, then.”

Nodding, she gave a little wave and walked away, head bent and long braid bouncing against her back. He watched until the trees swallowed her up, thinking it might not be a bad idea to find himself a date for tonight. Nothing serious. Just harmless fun.

Because whatever it was sensitizing him to Sophie—loneliness, although he didn’t exactly feel lonely, the unrecognized need for female companionship, perhaps—had to be snuffed out before he did something stupid.

* * *

“You don’t expect me to eat a slice of that pie, do you?” Will bounced on his toes, eager to make his escape.

Sophie slid it onto the dessert table in between a towering stack cake and a buttermilk pie. “It doesn’t look half bad.” She eyed her creation critically.

While the crust wasn’t perfectly round and smooth, it did have an appealing golden hue like the other pies on the table. And the rhubarb filling had filled the cabin with a sweet, pleasant aroma. She’d followed her ma’s recipe carefully. Surely it would be edible. Maybe even good.

“I don’t understand why you decided to make one, anyway,” Will said doubtfully. “You don’t bake.”

She couldn’t understand it, either. Oh, yeah. April and her insults. And a desire to prove to those girls—and Nathan, too—that they were wrong about her. That she was more than just a rough-around-the-edges, act-before-she-thought-it-through tomboy.

“There’s a first time for everything,” she told him with false confidence.

“Hey, Will.” Redheaded, freckled Charlie Layton halted midstride and motioned him over. “We’re gettin’ ready to race. Want to join us?”

“Sure thing!” With a muttered farewell, he ran to join Charlie. The two friends jogged off in the direction of the trees edging the church property where a group of about twenty boys their age had gathered.

The social was already in full swing, many of the men clustered alongside the white clapboard church, no doubt comparing farming techniques or debating quicker, more improved trade routes with the larger towns of Maryville and Sevierville, while the women relaxed on quilts, chatting and laughing and tending to fussy infants. Children darted in and out of the mix, chasing each other in friendly games of tag. Courting couples strolled arm in arm in the distance, keen on a little privacy.

At six o’clock, the heat of the day lingered despite the puffed cotton clouds suspended in the cerulean sky. Not even a hint of a breeze stirred the air. Sophie’s neck was damp beneath her braid, and she pictured her ma’s honey-blond hair arranged in a sleek, efficient bun, a throwback to her childhood in a strict Knoxville orphanage. If Jeanine had lived, would she have taught Sophie how to arrange her hair the same way? She’d tried her hand at it, of course, but with disastrous results.

“Sophie?”

Kenny Thacker weaved through the tables to reach her.

“Hi, Kenny.” She smiled at the skinny, pleasant young man who, because of their last names and the teacher’s penchant for alphabetical seating, had occupied the seat beside her throughout school.

“The guys are arm wrestling out at the old stump.” He gestured behind the church. “They sent me to ask if you’re up to joining us.”

She really shouldn’t. However, she did get a kick out of showing up guys like her pa who thought girls were weaker and dumber than them.

“I think Preston wants a rematch. He can’t accept that he was beaten by a girl.” He grinned broadly.

Sophie debated. She sure wouldn’t mind besting that arrogant Preston Williams a second time.

“Well, I—”

“Oh, hey, Nathan.” Kenny nodded in greeting.

Turning her head, her wide gaze landed on her too-handsome-for-words neighbor. Wearing a charcoal-gray shirt that molded to his corded shoulders and broad chest, the deep color made his silver eyes glow and shorn hair gleam a richer brown. Black trousers emphasized his long, lean legs, and he wore a sharp-looking pair of black leather lace-up boots. Quiet confidence radiated from his stance, his square shoulders and straight spine, his determined jaw and the unspoken message in his expression that he could handle any challenge that came his way.

Nathan wasn’t the showy type. Nor was he a man who liked to be the center of attention. His appeal was his complete unawareness of his attractiveness, his obliviousness to the single young ladies’ admiring glances.

Sophie hadn’t heard his approach, but apparently he’d been there long enough to hear Kenny’s question because his cool gaze was watching her closely, waiting for her response.

What will it be? his eyes seemed to challenge. Will you do the proper thing, or will you give in to impulse and act the hoyden?

Because she knew that no matter what she did she could not ultimately win his approval, Sophie was tempted to do it simply to irk him.

“I’m ready now, Nathan.” Pauline Johnson approached with a goofy grin and a buoyant light in her eyes. The tall, curvaceous blonde, stunning in teal, sidled close to Nathan. “Oh, hello, Sophie. Kenny.”

Sophie opened her mouth but couldn’t find her voice. Her heart beat out a dull tattoo. They were clearly here together. On a date. When was the last time Nathan had squired a girl around? He wasn’t interested in pursuing a relationship. Wasn’t that what he always said whenever his brothers gave him a hard time about being single?

Seeing Pauline curl her hand around his forearm, Sophie felt physically ill.

“Just a minute.” He barely allowed the blonde a glance, still obviously intent on Sophie’s response to Kenny’s summons.

Sophie glanced once more at the pie. It mocked her now. The foolish piece of her heart that refused to listen to reason, that still clung to the hope that one day he’d see her as an accomplished and attractive young woman worthy of his regard, withered and died.

Jerking her chin up, she determined he would never guess how deeply he’d wounded her. “Hello, Pauline,” she said, forcing a brightness to her voice. Please let it ring true. “You’re looking lovely this evening.”

Her grin widened, cobalt eyes shining with humble gratitude. “You’re kind to say so.” She gestured over her shoulder to where the O’Malleys were gathering. “Will you be joining us?”

Us. As in Pauline and Nathan and his family.

“I’m afraid not.” Not now, anyway. Her throat thickened with despair. Admit it, you’re jealous. Ugh! The kicker was that she actually liked Pauline. The same age as Nathan, Pauline was not only beautiful but considerate, friendly, and one of the best sopranos in Gatlinburg. Folks loved it when she sang specials at church.

Smart, sensible and accomplished. Unlike Sophie, Pauline was perfect for Nathan.

The knowledge cut deep.

“I actually have other plans.” To Kenny, she said, “Tell Preston I accept his challenge.”

His eyes lit up. “Nice.”

“Sophie—” Nathan growled.

Holding up a hand, she shot a pointed glance in Pauline’s direction. “You should tend to your guest. Enjoy the picnic, Pauline.”

Head high, she pivoted on her heel and called out to Kenny, “Wait up. I’ll walk with you.”

She left him standing there, bristling with disapproval. But she refused to let it sway her decision. Worrying about Nathan O’Malley’s opinion of her was a complete waste of time.

* * *

Nathan wanted nothing more than to go after her. The young lady at his side prevented that. Probably just as well. You’re not Sophie Tanner’s keeper. Distance, remember?

“Nathan?”

Ripping his gaze from the duo’s retreating forms, he plastered a placating smile on his face. “Let’s go join my family, shall we? Or we can sit with yours, if you’d rather.”

It would spare him Josh and Kate’s curiosity. The happily wedded couple had recently started hinting it was time he think about settling down. And, since this was the first time in months—possibly years—he’d escorted a girl anywhere, they were right to have questions.

Maybe that’s why Sophie had seemed so shocked to see him with Pauline. Her face had gone as white as the clouds above—

“I’d prefer to visit with your family.” The pretty blonde beamed at him, fingers clutching his sleeve a little too possessively. Just your imagination.

A long-time acquaintance, he’d chosen Pauline Johnson because she wasn’t the type of girl to read too much into a single outing. Nor was she so romantically minded she’d be miffed at his last-minute invitation.

Leading her past the long tables sagging beneath the weight of the food, he guided her to a prime spot on a gentle knoll beneath the protective branches of a sweet gum. Josh was propped up against the trunk, lazily observing the crowd. Keen interest sparked in his expression the moment he spotted them.

Ma elbowed Pa in the ribs, nodding and smiling as if he’d given her a surprise gift. Great. He had a sinking suspicion this wasn’t going to be as fun as he’d imagined.

“Pauline, how nice to see you.” Ma gestured to an empty patchwork quilt next to theirs. “Have a seat.”

He waited until she was seated, her crisp skirts arranged around her, to lower himself a good twenty-four inches away. Not because he was afraid of his reaction to her—he’d established with immense relief that she didn’t affect him in any way, good or bad—but because he wanted no illusions to form in her mind or anyone else’s.

Her cloying perfume wafted from her sleek blond mane and tickled his nose. He sneezed.

“God bless you.”

“Thanks,” he muttered, inconveniently recalling Sophie’s natural, pleasing scent.

“How is your sister and her new husband getting along?” Mary asked. “Do they like living in Sevierville?”

Pauline’s mouth formed a moue. “Laura’s homesick. Ma wishes they’d move back here, especially before they start a family.” She relaxed back on her hands, extended so that her fingertips nearly grazed his thigh. Was that on purpose? He shifted slightly to the right.

A scowl curled his lips. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. After all, Sophie still dominated his thoughts and hadn’t that been the point of this exercise? Distraction?

Mary nodded. “I can understand. I feel so blessed Josh and Kate settled here. I’ll get to spend a lot of time doting on my first grandchild.”

The conversation turned to babies. Nathan tried to stay focused, he really did, but an irritating little voice demanded to be heard. What if Sophie got herself into a fix? Those guys could play rough sometimes. What if she got hurt?

A cloud of aggravation lodged in his chest, expanding until he couldn’t ignore it a second longer. He jumped to his feet, earning him the attention of everyone present. “I, ah, have to check on something. I’ll hurry back.”

His date’s look of confusion, his ma’s barely hidden consternation and Josh’s amusement stayed with him as he traversed the field. He was going to regret this. He just knew it.


Chapter Six

Adrenaline fueled by deep distress gave Sophie the upper edge. The sight of Nathan and Pauline looking cozy branded into her brain, she bested David Thomas. And John Beadle. And Preston Williams.

Granted, David was fifteen and spindly. And John was too much of a gentleman to put forth much effort into beating her. Cocky Preston, on the other hand, had been a true challenge. If not for her heated reaction to Nathan’s surprise date, she very well could’ve lost.

Grumbling his displeasure, Preston shoved his way through the spectators.

“Who’s next, fellas?” Sophie taunted, feeling dangerous. In this moment, she didn’t care one whit about being a lady or what anyone else thought of her. Nor did she heed the burning sensation in her forearm and biceps. She needed an outlet for the restless energy thrumming through her, the weighty disappointment clamping down on her lungs.

“Don’t you think you’ve proved your point?”

Nathan. Why was she surprised? The underlying steel in his cool voice warned her she was on shaky ground, but she wasn’t in the mood to heed it. Spinning, she clasped her hands behind her back and arched a challenging brow. “What point would that be?”

Boots planted wide, hands fisted at his sides, a muscle twitched in his rock-hard jaw. “Do you really wanna discuss this here?”

All around them, young men ceased their talking to stare.

“You started it.” She jutted her chin at a stubborn angle.

“And I’ll finish it.” His nostrils flared. “Just not in front of an audience.”

Snickers and whistles spread through the small gathering.

When he reached for her arm, she jerked away, feeling slightly panicked. What if he got her alone and her true feelings spilled out? She didn’t trust her mental muzzle right now. “Wait, don’t you wanna give it a go? Or are you afraid you might lose to a girl?”

Though his eyes glittered silver fire, his tone was gentle. “I wouldn’t want to ever hurt you, Sophie.”

She caught her breath. You already have. You just don’t realize it.

“Later, guys.” Striding past him, she walked in the opposite direction of the crowd, stopping beside a grouping of young Bradford pears. “So tell me, what was so important you felt it necessary to abandon your date?”

Folding his arms across his substantial chest, he glared at her. “Would you believe I was actually worried about you?”

When he caught sight of her surprise, he laughed derisively. “I know. Silly, huh? After all, you know exactly what you’re doing, right? You can take care of yourself.”

“Of course. In case you’ve forgotten, I’ve been doing that since I was a kid. I don’t need looking after, Nathan. I’m not one of your cousins, nor am I your little sister.”

“Oh, believe me, I’m quite aware of that fact.” He ran a frustrated hand through his short hair.

Nathan and sarcasm didn’t normally go hand in hand. What had him so steamed? This wasn’t the first time she’d engaged in behavior he deemed unfitting for a young lady.

Annoyance stiffened her shoulders. “Why do you have such a problem with me arm wrestling? Last I heard, it wasn’t illegal.”

His eyes narrowed. “Sophie—” Exasperation shifted quickly into resignation, and he gave a quick, hard shake of his head. “No. I told myself I wasn’t going to lecture you anymore. You’re an adult capable of making your own decisions.”

“That’s right, I am,” she huffed. “And just because you don’t happen to agree with my decisions doesn’t mean they’re wrong.”

“While I agree we have different opinions about things, you can’t argue the fact that you’re flaunting clear-cut societal rules. Look around you—” he waved an impatient hand “—do you see any other young women arm wrestling? Engaging in spitting contests or tug-of-war games? Wrestling with grown men?”

Sophie lowered her gaze to the grass beneath her boot soles. She’d done all he’d said and more at one time or another. Not only did she enjoy a little friendly competition, she felt more comfortable around the guys. They didn’t judge her based on her appearance. Nor did they expect her to discuss the latest fashions and recipes or know how to quilt and then make fun of her when she didn’t.

“You don’t understand. You never have.”

“There you are.” Josh rounded the tree closest to them, his astute gaze bouncing between them. “Nathan, Pauline is wondering what happened to her escort.”

His expression shuttered. “I’m coming.”

Kate appeared a couple of steps behind, stylish in a forest-green outfit that made her skin appear dewy fresh. Today, her chocolate-brown mane had been tamed in a simple twist. “Sophie, how are you?”

“Just swell.”

“Nathan let me sample one of your sausages at lunch,” she said, her smile encompassing the two of them, “and it hit the spot. Your recipe is delicious. I have to have it.”

“Only one?” Josh winked at his wife. “Are you sure about that?”

Her cheeks pinked. “Well, maybe two. Or three. I wasn’t able to eat much breakfast, so I had to make up for the lack.”

Of their own accord, Sophie’s eyes slid to Kate’s midsection. Was that a slight bump? The dark material made it difficult to tell. When the happy couple announced last month that they were expecting, Sophie had wondered for the first time what it might be like to have a baby of her own. The prospect simultaneously intrigued and frightened the daylights out of her.

“The bacon didn’t sit well with her,” Josh explained.

“Maybe the baby doesn’t like bacon,” Sophie ventured, then blushed furiously when Nathan returned his attention to her. What an absurd thing to say. Muzzle, remember?

But Kate just laughed in delight and linked her arm through Sophie’s. “I think you may be right, dear Sophie. Why don’t you come sit with us? There’s ample space.”

“I wouldn’t want to intrude.” Just what she’d envisioned for today—observing Nathan’s courting efforts up close.

“Nonsense.” Kate waved off her resistance “You’re practically family.”

With a sinking stomach, Sophie allowed herself to be led to where the O’Malleys had gathered. As Pauline watched their approach, a tiny crease appeared between her fine brows. Of course, she had a right to wonder what had taken Nathan from her side. Her greeting smile held a hint of bravery, however, and she pulled him into the conversation with his parents with ease.

Sophie held back. Where to sit?

Kate pointed to Nathan’s blanket. “There’s space there, Sophie. We’ve loaded up extra plates of food, so help yourself.”

Reluctantly she lowered herself on his other side, as close to the edge as possible without actually sitting on the grass. Although he was concentrating on Pauline’s words, tension bracketed his mouth. Unlike all the times before when she’d joined the O’Malleys, she now felt like an intruder. An interloper. Oh, this was a nightmare! But she couldn’t very well be rude and abandon Kate after she’d gone out of her way to include her, could she?

Grabbing a plate without taking stock of its contents, she ate quickly, not really tasting any one flavor. It could have been liver and onions, for all she noticed. Conversation swirled around her. Nathan shot her a couple of furtive glances, but he didn’t speak directly to her. As if she wasn’t worth talking to. That hurt.

They were just finishing up their meal when a shadow fell across their legs. Sophie lifted her head and promptly dropped her fork.

April Littleton, looking sweetly feminine in the flowing yellow dress she’d described in the mercantile yesterday, bore a plate between her hands as if it held the Queen of England’s crown. The spiteful gleam in her eyes put Sophie on guard.

“Hello, Sophie.” Her smile smacked of gloating superiority. “Nathan.” She completely ignored Pauline.

“Hi, April.” Nathan set aside his empty plate. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been a busy woman of late, I must admit. I made this dress especially for tonight. What do you think?”

“I, ah...” Clearly not expecting such a question, he scrounged for an appropriate response. Shot Sophie a help-me look, which she ignored. What could she do but wait April out? “It’s very nice.”

April batted her lashes, cherry-red lips widening into a wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing smile. “Why, you’re kind to say so. This isn’t all I’ve been busy making, though. This here is a special family recipe—my great-grandmother Bertha’s delicious cinnamon-apple pie. I heard apple was your favorite, so I brought you a slice.”

She extended the plate toward him, which he accepted with a slight nod.

“That’s thoughtful of you, April. Thank you.”

Of course he would be polite. He wouldn’t embarrass her by correcting her. It smarted that he had no such reservations when it came to Sophie.

She stared at the plate, feeling slightly queasy. The slice closest to her was the apple. But what was the other one? Was it too much to hope it wasn’t what she suspected it was?

She craned her neck to get a glimpse.

“I also brought you a piece of Sophie’s pie,” April tacked on with an innocent air. “I haven’t tried it yet, but I sure am eager to see what it tastes like, aren’t you?”


Chapter Seven

Something told him this already dismal outing was about to get worse. Much worse.

Beside him, Sophie fidgeted with nerves, tugging on the sleeves of her brown shirt, fiddling with the collar. And April’s too-cheerful demeanor rang false. By now, Pauline and his family were watching the exchange with interest.

Shooting Sophie a quizzical glance, he kept his voice low. “I didn’t realize you’d made a pie.”

“It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.”

One she regretted, judging by the way she was gnawing on her bottom lip, dread stalking her eyes. The pulse at the base of her slender throat jumped.

“What are you waiting for?” April’s silken voice prompted.

“Right.”

Dreading this almost as much as Sophie, he sank his fork into the fluffy layers of crust and soft apples and lifted it to his mouth. April hadn’t exaggerated. The blend of sweet fruit and spices melted on his tongue.

“I can understand why your family has held on to this recipe. It’s wonderful.”

Pauline leaned forward. “I like apple, too. I wish you’d brought me one, April.”

A flicker of annoyance dimmed her gloating pleasure, and she shot the blonde a look that suggested she get her own. “Now the rhubarb.”

Sophie inhaled sharply, but he didn’t look at her. Couldn’t.

Best to get this over with as quickly as possible. The pie didn’t look half bad, he mused as he forked a bite. Maybe Sophie would surprise them all.

Then again, maybe not.

The crust tasted doughy as if undercooked, and the rhubarb filling was so tart it made his jaw ache. He fought a grimace as he forced himself to chew quickly and swallow the offensive bite, blinking at the tears smarting his eyes.

“Drink,” he choked out.

Kate slapped her tea jar into his outstretched hand and he drank long and deep. He thanked her and she nodded, a line of concern between her brows.

“It doesn’t appear you enjoyed that very much.” Arms crossed, April wore a smug expression.

Without warning, Sophie leaned close and, snagging the fork from his hand, scooped up a piece for herself. He watched her chew once, her eyes growing big, lashes blinking furiously as she choked. Behind him, his ma made a commiserating sound.

“I don’t understand.” Sophie shook her head in consternation, her thick, shimmering braid sliding over her shoulder. “I followed Ma’s recipe very carefully. I did exactly what it said—”

When she clapped her hand over her mouth, he prompted, “What?”

“There was a smudge.” She spoke without removing her hand, muffling her words. “A water stain, actually, right where she’d written the amount of sugar. So I guessed.”

April’s lip curled. “Don’t you know baking is a science? You can’t guess at it or else you’ll have a disaster on your hands.” Whirling around in a swish of skirts, she marched in the direction of the dessert table, waving her hands to get the attention of those within hearing distance. “Do not eat Sophie Tanner’s rhubarb pie, folks! Not if you want to avoid a terrible stomachache.” Scanning the table, she located the pie and deposited it into the nearest waste bin. People stopped and stared. When Nathan caught the triumphant smirk she shot over her shoulder in their direction, his blood burned white-hot.

There was movement beside him, the air stirring and with it the familiar scent of Sophie—dandelions and sunshine and innocence. He pulled back from his anger long enough to see her hurrying away.

“I’ll go talk to her.” Kate started to get up.

“No, I’ll do it.” He waved her off before getting to his feet. “But first, I’m going to have a word with Miss Littleton.”

“Nathan, wait.” Josh pushed up from the tree and laid a hand on his shoulder. “What’s it going to look like if you go marching over there and yell at her? Look around, brother. Everyone’s watching. I think it would be best if you focus on Sophie right now.”

“She didn’t deserve to be humiliated like that,” he grumbled.

“No, she didn’t,” Josh agreed, questions swirling in his blue eyes as he studied him. “It’s not like you to lose it. What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

At least, nothing he could confess. Josh was right. Of the three brothers, he was the calm, controlled one. The quiet one. Some would even say shy.

But for weeks now he’d been wrestling with confusing reactions to a girl he’d always viewed as a pal, an unexpected and unwelcome awareness of her that frustrated him to no end. And his ability to contain that frustration was becoming less and less sure.

Josh squeezed his shoulder. “Whatever it is, you know you can talk to me anytime.”

“I know.” Slowly, he unclenched his hands. Took a calming breath. “I’d better go find her.”

He took a single step, then remembered. With an inward wince, he turned back. “I’m sorry, Pauline, but I have to—”

With a tentative smile, she waved him on. “Go. Your friend needs you right now.”

“Thanks for being understanding.”

Feeling slightly guilty for neglecting his date, he started off in search of Sophie, wondering why his life had suddenly become messy. He didn’t do messy. He preferred things clear-cut. Straightforward. No surprises.

The problem was that Sophie was synonymous with unpredictability. She blurred his thinking. Knocked him off-kilter. He didn’t like that.

He used to be able to ignore it or to simply brush her off, but...they weren’t kids anymore. Things had changed without him wanting or expecting them to. And if he was going to reclaim any sense of normalcy, of balance, he was going to have to put some distance between them.

Right after he made certain she was okay.

* * *

He hadn’t gone far when he spotted her boots swinging from a limb.

Of course she’d be up in a tree. It was her favorite place to go when she craved space. Too bad he wasn’t going to give it to her. Not yet.

A fleeting glance was her only acknowledgment of his presence. Her features were tight as she stared straight ahead. No tears for Sophie.

Since they weren’t within eyesight of the church, he grabbed hold of a low-slung branch and proceeded to climb up, settling on a thick limb opposite her. How long had it been since he’d done this? Years?

“I’m not in the mood for a lecture, Nathan. If that’s why you’re here, you can just climb back down and leave me in peace.”

A green, leafy curtain blocked the outside world. His left boot wedged against the trunk and one hand balanced on the branch supporting him, he shook his head. “I’m not here to lecture you. I’m done with that.”

Disbelief skittered across her face. He didn’t blame her for doubting him. He’d made reprimanding her into a profession. “Besides, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

She frowned. “Didn’t I? My pride is the reason I was just humiliated in front of the entire town. I let April’s superior attitude get to me.” A fuzzy black-and-orange caterpillar crawled over her hand, and she touched a gentle finger to it. “I was trying to prove a point. I proved one, all right.”

Nathan hated the defeat in her voice. “It takes guts to try something new.”

She was silent a long time, her attention on the caterpillar in her cupped hands. Her legs slowed their swinging. “Do you remember when we used to play in the treetops? You, me and Caleb?”

“How could I forget?” They’d made up all sorts of adventures for themselves.

Her lips twisted in a wistful sort of smile. “I liked playing pirates most of all. Caleb was the big, bad pirate, I was the damsel in distress and you...” Her eyes speared his as her words trailed off.

“I was always the hero, swooping in to rescue you,” he finished for her, lost in her sapphire eyes full of memories and mystery.

“Yes.” Lowering her gaze, she released the caterpillar onto the branch to go on his merry way. “Sometimes I miss those days.”

Resisting the pull she had over him, he spoke gruffly. “Things change. We’ve changed. Don’t you think it’s time you stopped climbing trees, Sophie? Stop living in the past? Put our childhood behind us?”

For a split second he glimpsed the hurt his words—said and unsaid—inflicted. Then she jerked her chin up and glared at him.

“No, I don’t. I like climbing trees, and I don’t see any reason to stop. I’ll probably still be doing it when I’m old and gray. With any luck, you won’t be around to scold me.”

And with that, she hurried down and stormed off. Left him there feeling like an idiot.

* * *

Today was a new day.

Sitting in a church pew with his family listening to the reverend’s opening remarks, Nathan was confident he’d made the right decision. Lounging in that tree long after she’d gone, he’d determined that what he and Sophie needed was some space. As he’d reminded her last night, they weren’t kids anymore. Maybe that was their error—assuming things could stay the same. He feared if they continued in this manner, one of them—more than likely him—was bound to say or to do something so damaging, so incredibly hurtful, their friendship wouldn’t survive. He would hate that.

He had to be careful to make his distance seem natural, though. The very last thing he wanted was to hurt her. He would curtail his visits, and if she questioned him he could blame it on his heavy workload. She was busy, too. This would work.

No sooner had the thought firmed in his mind than the rear doors banged open. The reverend faltered, and the congregation turned as one to see who was behind the interruption. When he first saw her, disapproval pulsed through him. Not only was Sophie late, she’d made an entrance no one could ignore.

But then her panicked expression registered, and as she rushed to whisper in Doc’s ear, Nathan grabbed his Bible and, pushing to his feet, hurried down the aisle toward her, his decision forgotten, uncaring what anyone else thought.

Something was wrong with Tobias.

* * *

As much as Nathan’s immediate reaction of censure chafed, Sophie dismissed it. The disturbance couldn’t be helped. Granddad was fading fast, and she didn’t care if she had to interrupt the President of the United States himself if it meant getting help.

Gray hair flittering in the breeze, Doc ushered her outside and down the church steps. “Are you able to ride your horse or would you prefer to ride in my buggy?”

She knew she looked affright, her hair pulled back in a disheveled ponytail and her breathing coming in ragged puffs. “I’ll take my horse.”

With a curt nod, the middle-aged doctor settled his hat on his head and strode for his buggy parked near the church entrance.

“I’m coming with you.”

Sophie jumped at the sound of Nathan’s gravelly voice right behind her. She spun around, ready to tell him not to bother, only to falter at the disquiet darkening his silver eyes to gunmetal gray. He was offering her support. Something she desperately needed right now, even if she was irritated with him.

Admit it, you don’t want to be alone if this truly is the end.

She cleared her throat, barely holding the tears at bay. “Fine.”

Dropping his Stetson on his head, he strode to his horse and, securing his Bible in the saddlebag, mounted up. They rode hard and fast through town and along the country lane leading to her place, arriving right behind the doctor. Will, who’d stayed behind, burst through the door, his small face pinched with fright.

Sliding to the ground, she dropped the reins and grasped his shoulders. “Will?”

“I’m scared, sis,” he whispered, burrowing his face in her middle.

Her chest constricting, she wrapped her arms around his thin frame and held him close. The flimsy piece of string restraining her hair had broken free during the jolting ride and now her hair spilled over her shoulders, shielding her face. Good. Nathan wouldn’t be able to see how close she was to losing it, the grief and fear surely written across her features.

He stood very close to them, almost touching, the strength emanating from his tall frame surrounding them like a tangible force. When she lifted her head, she risked a glance his direction, afraid he’d see through all her flimsy defenses and realize she wasn’t as strong as she pretended to be. That she was, in fact, weak. Vulnerable. Fragile.

However, his eyes were closed and his lips moving. With a start, she realized he was praying. For her and Will and Granddad. While she knew Nathan’s faith was solid and very important to him, he was a private man. She’d heard him pray a handful of times over a meal but this was personal. This was him petitioning God for her sake.

Her heart swelled, her love for this man burrowing so deep that she suspected she’d never be able to uproot it.

Movement in the doorway caught her attention.

“He’s asking for you.”

The finality in Doc’s voice washed over her like a bucket of icy water and, despite the midmorning heat, goose bumps raced along her skin and she shuddered. With an arm around Will, she forced her feet to move, to lead them both inside.

Memories of another death slammed into her. It was as if she was eight again, fear and dread clawing in her chest as she walked into this very room to say goodbye to her ma. To place a kiss against her cool, colorless cheek. Granddad had been right there to hold her, to comfort her.

Why God? Why must I say goodbye? I’m not ready!

They hesitated in the entrance. Will trembled beneath her arm, and she hugged him closer, attempting to instill comfort with her touch.

Tobias’s eyes fluttered open and he lifted a finger. “Come...closer, children.”

Needing to be near him, Sophie eased down on the bed and took his withered hand in hers, clinging with as much pressure as she dared. Will stationed himself beside the bedside table, eyes huge in his face, hands clamped behind his back.

In the back of her mind, she registered Sam and Mary’s voices mingling with those of Doc Owens and Nathan’s in the living room.

“I love you both.” Tobias dragged his gaze from Will’s face to hers. His tired eyes exuded calm assurance. Acceptance. “And I’m proud of you.”

“I love you, too, Granddad,” Will murmured, sniffling.

Tears blurred her vision. Stroking his hand, she leaned down and kissed his sunken cheek. “You know how much I love you. How much I need you. Please, don’t leave us.” Her voice cracked.

God, help me. I can’t do this.

“You’ll be fine,” he rasped, “just fine. The Lord’s calling me home, Sophie.” He was quiet a long moment, his lids sliding shut. “I wanna see my Anne.”

Will stood solemnly staring down at him. Sophie held on to Tobias’s hand, her fingers stroking back and forth. The hushed voices in the other room filtered in but she couldn’t make out the conversation. Tobias’s jagged breathing sounded harsh in the stillness.

They remained that way for a long while. Half an hour, at least. Maybe longer. Sophie spent the time praying, her gaze trained on her granddad’s face, memorizing the beloved features. Without warning, his chest stopped rising. His fingers went slack.

“Granddad?” She rested her head on his chest, but there was no heartbeat. “No. No!”

Tears coursed unchecked down her face. She couldn’t breathe. The edge of her vision faded to black. Where was that heart-wrenching wailing coming from?

And then, suddenly, strong arms were lifting her up, cradling her. Murmuring softly, Nathan carried her away. She wasn’t aware of where he was taking her. Eyes shut, she buried her face in his chest and let the tears flow. There was no hiding from him now. And right this minute, it no longer mattered.

Her granddad was gone, and she was all alone in the world.


Chapter Eight

Sophie gradually became aware of Nathan’s slowed footsteps, of him lowering them both onto a fallen log out of the direct sunlight. The stream was nearby. She couldn’t see it, but she heard the steady rush of water above her heart thwacking against her rib cage.

He held her securely, his arms looped around her waist and his chest solid and warm beneath her cheek.

“I’m sorry, Sophie,” he whispered, his lips brushing the curve of her ear. “So sorry.”





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